Lipstick Mannequin
by Whimsical Symphony
Summary: AU. Her whole life, Naminé was ridiculed for being an introvert with no presence. After meeting a male fashion designer who firmly states that every girl can be a princess, she is reluctantly whisked off into the fashion world by becoming a model for three eccentric beauticians determined to win a difficult, annual tournament. Naminé/Riku
1. Becoming a Princess

**Lipstick Mannequin**

_Written by Whimsical Symphony_

_I always wanted to write a story about beauticians, and I finally found a place where this story could fit in. I was thinking of a couple fandoms, but this one won out in the end. No one fits the role more than Namin_é. _The usual deal goes. Any constructive criticism and any comments are well appreciated. I love to hear all your thoughts. It's fun to write and have people come with me on this adventure. I'm pretty psyched about this one. I really shouldn't be starting any new stories, but I'm determined to finish most of them. I'm going to put all my steam into updating this one. It will be filled with romance, loads of humour, and themes of friendship._

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**Chapter I – Becoming a Princess**

"Have you heard about that beauty salon at Station Heights? I'm kind of curious. Everyone's been talking about it."

The voice came from Selphie Tilmitt – an exuberant girl with way too much energy and not much to use it on. She always kept up with the latest trends and really, was too pretty for her own good. And charming and outgoing. Naminé didn't even know why she would need a beauty salon, or why she grew interested in it. Naminé thought of her as nice as well, despite her growing popularity which never kept her bound in one spot for long. Selphie knew too many people, felt like meeting new people every day. Her friendship could be compared to the wind, there one moment, and then in the next, gone.

Naminé thought that maybe, she should have been sad about that, but then remembered the company of an introverted artist must've not been all that interesting to Selphie anyway. She should have thanked Selphie for sticking around as much as she did.

"Why would you be interested in that? It's just a beauty salon, what could be so interesting about that?"

Her other friend, the more constant companion Naminé had, was very different from Selphie, a studious girl named Olette who'd lived in Twilight Town all her life. She loved math and loved to study, and in that way, perhaps she did have something in common with Naminé. Naminé knew though, Olette knew how to be outgoing, how to talk to people, skills she'd never had. She wondered why Olette stuck around as well, knowing her popularity due to her roles in the Student Council and helping the Chairman with work. Naminé knew Olette _was_ her roommate, but beyond that, Olette could have rightfully cut off all relations. Olette could be considered a genius, recognized for everything she did. Naminé thought of Olette as one of the prettiest, kindest girls she'd ever met.

These two were the only two pretty, stylish people she could talk to besides her own brother, without getting an anxiety attack.

"Of _course_ I'm interested. Apparently they have a really cute store. And they manage these amazing transformations on people. Apparently the beauticians there have won a lot of competitions!" Selphie explained, puffing out her cheeks in irritation. "I want to see! They're looking for a new model so they can enter a really high level beauty contest this year too." Selphie looked at Naminé and asked, "What do you think, Naminé?"

Naminé flushed, as expected and turned toward them, and said in a soft voice, "You know I'm not interested… in that sort of… activity." She sat on her bed and buried her face in a pillow she rested on her arched knees, not quite wanting them to see her red face.

"See, Naminé's sensible, Selphie. What's fashion going to do for you?" Olette snorted and got back to work on her math equations, solving them with a simple, graceful flick of her wrist, her pencil gliding across the paper like a dolphin cutting through water. "You're probably interested because of the gossip saying that the guys there are really good-looking."

Selphie glowered in response. "No, I'm not! Well… kind of…" She admitted this sheepishly, tugging at the ends of her dress. "But I still want to see their skills."

Olette's pretty, and she dresses well even though her style isn't flashy, Naminé often thought, and the colours she wears coordinate really well. As an artist, she knew beauty when she saw it and could create it in paintings, in sculpture, but it never applied to herself, never. It applied to people like Olette who had some semblance of it to begin with. It must be for these reasons that she talks to people so _easily_. It must be because of these reasons that people _never_ picked on her.

When university began, it had been different, but not so much in the scheme of things. Sure, there were more people, and perhaps they were more mature. But within her small residence building, the concepts were the same. They found more _mature _ways to pick on her, but the fundamentals were the same albeit much less aggressive, and therefore better. They wouldn't go out of their way to do anything, but they still thought of her as the creepy, quiet girl who would draw in her spare time. They would call her nicknames like: "**Nam**eless", with the first three letters of her name.

In other words, they teased her for having absolutely _no presence. _People often did forget about her, but it was a lot better than them noticing her and teasing her.

Selphie pouted. "I'm still surprised you're not interested in fashion, Naminé. Your brother is that Zack Fair, right?"

"Zack is Zack, and… I'm not him," Naminé answered softly. And she did love her brother, she really did. Zack had been the one to protect her from bullies back when they'd been younger and comfort her when she cried. The older brother most people dreamed about, he embodied. Even now, busy with his modeling career, he still found time to call her every day, without fail. He also understood her better than anyone. Naminé always would be proud of him. But still, in a way, Naminé felt happy people called her Nameless. At least people never really bothered to find out about her relation to Zack.

Noticing the difference between them was fundamental. Zack _was_ beauty, Naminé _made_ beauty. She smiled softly, though she thought somewhat melancholically that maybe meeting new people would be nice, maybe changing a little bit would make herself happy, not wanting to drown herself in hat art so much, not worrying Zack so much.

Her two friends looked at her, a bit concerned as she took out her sketchbook and began to draw, pictures of dresses, pictures of nature, pictures of princesses and ladies and with the sweet hint of colour.

Naminé never realized that perhaps, she did find more interest in beauty than just looking at it.

* * *

Naminé made her way to the Clock Tower later in the evening, her sketchbook held in place under her arm. Twilight Town had a beautiful orange glow in the sky at sunset, and during the day, though the shades would change slightly depending on the time. Twilight Town at night she also thought beautiful, with stars that shone high in the sky, sequins dusting fabric of blue. At night, closer to eight o' clock, the sun would hit the tower perfectly, creating the perfect scene to draw, so beautiful, unable to be replicated. Naminé drew everything at that time, everything around her, the Clock Cower itself.

She walked to Station Heights, in Market Street, getting to Central Station, which had the perfect view of the tower. She looked to her right, and noticed then, what Selphie must have been referring to earlier. A crowd surrounded the salon called 'Princesses of Heart' even during this time, beautiful princesses of all types, into fashion, into makeup, stood excitedly, waiting in a long line that took up most of the upper section of Market Street. Naminé thought all of them were beautiful, their soft hair, their clothes which reminded her of the feathers on birds as they would cut through the air sharply like a knife.

She thought about herself and didn't understand where she went wrong. Why didn't she end up a princess like them? Just walking near them made her woozy. So she walked past them briskly, quickly making her way to Central Station, not wanting to ponder on where she went wrong any longer.

Reaching the high Central Station, she sat on a bench, basking in the sunlight, and opened her sketchbook, flipped to a page, and began to draw the Clock Tower, for once feeling _happy_. She could do this with skill at least, let her pencil glide across the paper with lines of construction and quickly move to imitate the effect of creeping shadows on the tower, emphasizing that one focal point where the light hit the metal of the clock hands, blinding her.

"Ah, it's Nameless, y'know?"

When she looked up from her work, she saw three of the most notorious bullies in Twilight Town, Seifer, Rai and Fuu. Well, kind of bullies, they never did anything that required much effort. They attended the university but often skipped to hang out at their 'territory' the Sandlot. In fact, her nickname originated due to one of the member's, Rai's, poor memory.

"Holy hell, where'd you come from, y'know?" he paused. "Who are you?"

And after that, Seifer burst out into laughter and Fuu cracked a smile. From that moment onward, she'd been called Nameless. It was inevitable she'd be teased for being a nobody.

At least they didn't go out of their way to bully her, only really teased her when they happened to see her. But really, because of them, everyone else bullied her too.

"Hmm, it is, isn't it," Seifer said. He laughed. "And look, like always, she's got no presence!"

Fuu nodded in response. Now that Naminé thought about it, she did find it sad that she had less presence than Fuu who barely said anything if she could help it. Fuu managed to be one of the more popular girls without even trying.

Rai walked up to her and took her sketchbook. Naminé panicked. All of her drawings she took pride in were in there, her repeated attempts at trying to draw the Clock Tower, her painful attempts at perfecting her shading, everything!

"Give that back!" She stood up off the bench and tried to make herself seem strong, but even she knew she shook like a leaf in autumn, about to fall off a tree. She hated confrontations, even with these three. "Please…" The tears collected in her eyes. She wanted her sketchbook back. She wanted to be Nameless. She'd rather they just forgot about her and let her get on with her business. To her, when noticed, it brought pain.

"She's begging, huh?" Seifer mused. "Rai," he said, turning to his 'lackey', "what's inside there. Let's finally figure out what Nameless draws in her spare time. Right, Fuu?"

"See. Now." Fuu said this concisely, as she usually did. She only usually spoke while stringing single words together.

Before Naminé knew it, she'd collapsed onto the ground, and held her hand against the warm cobblestone. She didn't want them to look at her artwork. It had been the one thing they could never get their hands on until this point. Naminé's art allowed her to escape if only for a little while, forget that she went wrong somewhere and didn't end up as a princess like most girls, forget that she had no presence, think for a little while that people would appreciate her sooner or later - forget the fact that she and beauty didn't fit in the same sentence and that Naminé could create it, but couldn't create it in herself.

They laughed at her crying, they laughed at her begging, whispering incomprehensible words, fragments, that had some relation to, 'Please give my sketchbook back.'

"It's not nice to bully girls," a voice said. Looking up reluctantly through her tears, Naminé saw a man who could be deemed as more than just beautiful, a species separate from her, short silver hair and aqua eyes and style that could put most supermodels to shame. He held a small bag in his hand, filled with fabric, she could see sticking out. One of the stylish ones defended her? She couldn't believe it. "I suggest you give her back her sketchbook."

"Who the hell're you, y'know?" Rai exclaimed, purposefully backing away from Naminé and holding the sketchbook closer to him.

"Wait Rai, I know him. So does Fuu," Seifer said, glaring at the male. Rai looked at him questioningly, Fuu only kept her eyes on the scene at hand. Seifer sighed. "Give Nameless back her sketchbook."

"What-" Rai started, but Seifer gave him a warning glance. "Fine," he said, pouting and dropped Naminé's sketchbook on the ground, which she grabbed hastily, hugging it to her chest protectively, trying not to cry but failing miserably. "You have to tell me what's up later, Seifer, y'know?"

"Someone like you wouldn't understand _unless_ I explained," Seifer deadpanned, walking back down to Station Heights.

"Idiot," Fuu added teasingly, walking alongside Seifer.

Rai pouted, and followed them like a lost puppy. "I'm not an idiot, y'know."

Their conversation eventually faded so she couldn't hear it anymore. Naminé sighed, exhausted and flipped through the pages of her sketchbook, wondering what she would do if she lost all her drawings. She looked up at the male, still there, watching her curiously, an odd expression on his face. "T-thank you," she mumbled shyly. "Most people… don't stop Seifer."

"They should, it's not right to bully," he told her, shaking his head. He sat down on the floor across from her and put his chin in his hand, from the arm he kept propped up on his knee. "You're an artist?"

Naminé nodded, blushing more and more from his gaze, kept firmly on her face. She nodded in response to his question, then looked down at her sketchbook determinedly, not wanting to look at this person for too long. Like the rest of his kind, he'd turn away from her and forget she'd ever existed. She'd be Nameless again.

"That's nice – I am too, just not in the traditional sense," he started conversationally. "I'm Riku, what's your name?" At hearing his declaration of him being an artist, she perked up slightly, and looked over at the bag he held. He seemed to know what she thought, and said, "I work as a fashion designer. The salon I work at features full transformations, not just hair and not just makeup. Everything. Every girl can be a princess."

_**Every girl can be a princess**_

That struck a chord in her. She knew she couldn't be a princess. Why did he think she could be a princess? Maybe what he said was true up until a certain point. Every girl could be a princess but her.

"Naminé," she whispered. "And you're wrong, not every girl can become a princess."

"Take out the 'not' and you're on the right track," he replied, a smirk on his face. She frowned and he chuckled. "No, seriously. Every girl can." When he looked at her expression, a frown that dug far deeper than the teasing he just saw happen, he knew she'd been ridiculed for a long time. But he thought of her as rather pretty – she only needed to bring it out more, be more confident – she had looks, those wide innocent eyes of hers and that light blonde hair. Her clothes were shabby, but that could be fixed. He frowned for a minute as he thought, then smiled. She did have potential, didn't she? "Hey, Naminé." She looked at him. "I know I can turn you into a princess. Every girl can be one, right? I'll prove to you that I'm right."

"I can't be one," Naminé answered, frowning. The man in front of her, in actuality, seemed to be much more eccentric than she first thought.

"You can," Riku countered. He stood up and reached out a hand for her to take. "If you take this hand, I'll prove to you you're no worse than any girl out there – you're a princess too." He looked at her softly, a small smile on his lips, encouraging. "Take my hand."

She didn't know what possessed her to do it when she knew very well Nameless suited her, ugly suited her, the girl with no presence suited her. But his promises didn't seem false, and maybe she grew a little curious about what kind of magic he could do that could transform into a princess like he said. Very little could be done to make her beautiful, like Selphie, like Olette.

She took his hand, and whispered, "You don't have to try so hard. You can't do much about changing me. I'm… not a princess, can't be one."

"You _will_ be one," Riku assured as they walked to Station Heights. His steps were slow, and allowed her to keep up even though her legs were much shorter than his. His hand felt warm over hers. "Don't say you can't. You're pretty cute." She blushed and protested, to which he shushed her gently. "As per our bet though, I told you I'd prove to you I can turn you into a princess. When I succeed, work as our model for the upcoming beautician tournament in Radiant Garden." Naminé noticed he said 'when' instead of 'if'. Confident indeed.

"School…" Naminé added lamely, not quite sure just happened.

"School is off for the duration of the tournament," Riku explained. "Twilight Town isn't known for much besides its sea-salt ice cream. So…I guess they want to support us. If we win, we get Kingdom Hearts, a trophy which is also a huge boost in prestige. We'll be named the top beauticians anywhere. And Twilight Town will be the place that hosts us."

"I'm not fit to be a model," Naminé squeaked. He squeezed her hand comfortingly. She didn't like it, someone like her, as far as possible from a beauty, becoming a model? The very thought was absurd.

"You are," he assured.

Naminé wondered why all of this seemed familiar to her. Then it hit her, Selphie talked about this earlier. "Where.. do you work?"

"Here." They stopped in front of the salon, Princesses of Heart complete with its large lineup of stylish princesses and Naminé gulped. She didn't know what to think about the current situation, and she didn't know why Riku seemed so assured he'd turn her into the peacocks in front of her, with their high heels and colourful dresses.

Was change a good thing? Should she have not taken his hand? Maybe it would have been better to sink into the background and remain Nameless Naminé.

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_Words: 3 021_


	2. The Princess' Magician

**Lipstick Mannequin**

_Written by Whimsical Symphony_

_Finally, the next chapter is here. I do hope you'll forgive me for taking a long time, but I wanted to make this perfect. Naminé's proving to be a difficult character to write. Not only is she a bit pessimistic, she does want to change but doesn't find it possible. As such, she often contradicts herself and as an author she's less than straightforward to write. I hope you enjoy the interactions between all the characters in this chapter and how Riku views his own position in the story._

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**Chapter II – The Princess' Magician**

Naminé felt like she would vomit as the eccentric fashion designer, Riku, showed her the interior of the beauty salon he worked for, Princesses of Heart. She didn't know if change for someone like her could be considered an achievable feat, whether change would even be a _good t_hing. Naminé hadn't even known up till now that she kind of liked being _Nameless,_ if only it made her blend in, if only people didn't notice her. They never did after all. She created beauty, she understood it; she could open all its locks and keys and explore every single nook and cranny of a world so separate from her own. But eventually, even if Naminé did visit, did explore, someone like her had to get in her Gummi Ship and go home eventually, didn't she?

When she looked inside, the shop looked glitzy, glamorous, much like the people who worked there, with its cozy black leather seats (or 'thrones' as Naminé thought they looked more like) for Princesses who waited for their attendants, granite countertops and sleek ceramic tiles with glossy surfaces which, like the stylish ones themselves, looked perfect in the light. Princesses also sat on revolving chairs while stylists cut their hair or did their makeup. Loads of clothes lined the walls, nothing but fashionable and nothing but the best.

"Ah, Riku, who's this?"

Oh yes, she needed to grab her Gummi Ship right now and go _back home_.

Naminé hardly noticed Riku's hand splayed on her back, gently guiding her forward when she'd been too nervous to move. And if she didn't have reason to be nervous before, she definitely did now. So many stylish people in one room and one right in front of her – a gorgeous, curvy, stylish woman dressed entirely in black who, though she looked rather genial at the moment, probably could kick anyone's butt if they looked at her the wrong way. Naminé idly looked at Riku beside her, who gave her a small smile, and then she realized that of course he'd be chummy with equally beautiful people into style who were, now that she thought about it, probably equally eccentric, determined to make even people like her into princesses.

"Naminé, this is Tifa, the owner of Princesses of Heart," Riku introduced, giving Naminé an encouraging smile, to which she couldn't help but frown a little, and flush at the attention of two people on her now- – one of them being a rich lady who owned this place, lavishly decorated and all, and the other, an odd fashion designer - not to mention other people who seemed to be eyeing her. Of course she didn't seem like she'd fit in in a place like this. "Tifa, this is Naminé. I finally found a model for the upcoming contest! She's perfect!"

Naminé couldn't help but notice how excited he sounded, and confident that he'd win, either that or completely forgetting the fact that she wasn't their model yet because he hadn't turned her into a princess… yet. She wondered if inside, she kind of wanted to be one, of only for a day, then shook that thought away. Someone like her wouldn't suit that role. There were princesses like Olette and Selphie, and Princes like Zack and Riku, and outcasts like her. Or maybe, she was the only other outcast – every other girl had the potential to become a princess, when she lacked it. That would never change. A girl like her could never be a princess.

"I see, I see!" And to Naminé's embarrassment, the woman walked right up to her, hands on her hips as she peered at the girl, looking straight into her eyes. Feeling intimidated, Naminé flushed and averted her eyes. "Riku, I swear you have the best luck – where'd you find her? She's so adorable!" And Tifa, to Naminé's discomfort (even more than she already felt) embraced her. "Ah, I can't wait to see her all dressed up."

Chuckling slightly, Riku separated the two and said, "I found her being bullied by Seifer and his group on the way back from buying fabrics for my new design."

Naminé maybe thought, she should have been more embarrassed, ashamed and humiliated that he talked about her weakness in front of her, the fact that Seifer and his group teased her a lot. But, she acknowledged it already, and though she wasn't pleased by the bullying and teasing, she'd grown to accept it. Frowning, she wondered when exactly she grew so unfeeling of it all.

"Let me guess, you let them get away, right?" Tifa asked him, crossing her arms and looking displeased. "If I'd been there, I would have given them a knuckle sandwich they would've never forgotten. That punk, Seifer, really has it coming to him." She nodded, and Naminé thought she sounded a lot older then, wise even. Tifa looked at Naminé firmly, and said, "If they, or anyone else ever bothers you – come to me, okay? I'll give them a well-deserved beating for you. Don't count on _little 'Ku_ for anything."

"Assessing Naminé's condition was my first responsibility," Riku muttered, frowning at the condescending nickname. "And she was perfect model material." Tifa chuckled in response.

Naminé wondered if that meant he wasn't interested in her as a model, he would have beaten up Seifer and his crew. She smiled a tiny bit at the thought, imagining Seifer with his angry expression, calling a reluctant retreat with his two friends in the face of terror – or rather, Riku. But one man against three (actually, two and Fuu, but Fuu was mighty enough) men, Naminé didn't know the odds of him winning.

"T-thank you," Naminé answered her shyly. She doubted that she would ever ask anything of the woman. After all, she would probably disappear from the woman's life soon enough, and Riku's. But maybe, just for a bit, she would miss it. The woman's grin made her feel warm inside, almost the same feeling she had when she talked to Zack. "I'll be sure to."

"You'd better," Tifa warned. When she looked around, only then did she notice all the eyes on them, and she sighed. "We'd better take this to the back. Still got a few customers to attend to. Thankfully there're other stylists besides your team – Cloud, Aqua, Terra and the twins can handle it. Riku, how about you show her into the back? I'll tell Sora and Kairi to join you and you can all get yourselves acquainted."

Riku nodded, and with that, he took her hand and led her to the back, giving a few smiles to some girls who curled their hair and smiled flirtatiously at him. Naminé could only think that of course Princes would attract Princesses. Princes were good looking, so they'd be pretty popular, especially with Princesses.

"Thanks for calling me a Prince," Riku told her, giving her a small smirk. "But you're wrong."

Before she could even be humiliated that she'd unintentionally said he was a prince out loud due to her anxiety, she cocked her head to the side in confusion.

"I'm no Prince, I'm the supporting character," he added, sounding quite serious. "The supporting character who drives the force of the story."

"You… don't think," Naminé started, struggling to get the words out and sound even marginally normal, like a stable structure with all its foundations constructed strongly, "you're the leading man?"

She flushed when she asked it, almost afraid she'd asked a stupid question. Naminé didn't even know how to speak to people these days, how to sound like normal, how to sound vaguely interesting. Selphie often bored of her presence, and being popular, often wandered around to different groups of friends like a nomad. Selphie didn't find her talking interesting most of the time. Naminé figured the only reason she became friends with Selphie mainly revolved around her relation to Olette. And Olette stuck around, though she didn't know why. An introvert like her, someone who didn't even fit in with people like them, she would never be visible, she would be a _nobody_, just Nameless Naminé – a name she both loathed and accepted.

"That role doesn't interest me, not at all." Riku shook his head, opening the door to one of many rooms in the back. The plate on it, a small slab of silver, had his name written on it, _Riku. _All the beauticians probably had rooms like these, Naminé mused. Looking around, she saw one with a plate that said _Kairi_, and another which said _Sora_, among a few others. When they walked inside the room, Naminé saw beautiful clothes constructed of silks, velvet, wool and cotton, colourful with lace in dresses, and classy button down shirts for men, laid for display on the walls, and left to hang in an aged, dark cherry wood cabinet. A work table lay in the centre of the room, filled with excess fabric and uncut lace, and a sewing machine, and spools of thread unravelling, their material hitting the ground. "Welcome to my workstation – this is where I construct clothes."

"You made… all of these?" Naminé looked at the clothes in awe, the delicate patterns of embroidery sown so intricately, with such care, those done by hand, and admired the very beauty which this male constructed. She could see that – clothes were his passion; he loved them, just like she liked her type of art. He never lied about being an artist. She could see the mess of an author, creativity imbued in each thread. "They're… beautiful." Naminé smiled.

"Thank you," Riku replied, glad to see even a small smile on her face now. He could tell even though he just met her, that for a girl like her, smiles were rare. Must have been because of the teasing. He gestured around the room, and continued, "This is why I'm not a leading man." Naminé blinked once in confusion and he gave her a small, sly smile. "Think of me as a _magician_, the driving force of the story. As a magician, I'll turn you into a princess."

He sounded so serious when he said it, and then Naminé couldn't help but see it his way. Riku the Magician, had a nice ring to it. Flushing a bit, then chuckling, Naminé couldn't help but reply jokingly, "Does that mean you're my Fairy Godmother?"

Riku laughed a bit in reply. "You can think of me like that if you want – I'll give you pretty clothes, a Pumpkin Carriage, and whisk you off to the ball where you'll meet your Prince, as a Princess should," he answered her, a visible smile on his face. "But, I assure you," he started again, the tone in his voice becoming serious, "I am most definitely, a guy."

Naminé flushed, looking at the floors and fiddling with her fingers, clasping her hands. "Fairy Godfather, then?" she corrected shyly.

He laughed again and ruffled her hair. "That sounds more accurate. But you'll see, I'm a magician. Even though you don't need much magic, really. You're pretty cute already – just some things to make you shine even more, to truly make you into a princess."

Naminé flushed again, not quite sure how to answer him.

Riku sat down Naminé on a leather, revolving chair facing a large mirror with (unnecessary) crystals surrounding it and a desk attached to it, essentially a large vanity, as he looked at clothes that may or may not have suited her.

The door opened suddenly then and two people waltzed in, both beautiful – a red haired woman who looked Naminé's age, with a warm expression on her face, and a brunette with the spikiest locks she'd ever seen, and the same expression as the girl warm and inviting.

"So, 'Ri, you found us a model for the competition?" the girl asked him, her hands clasped, looking very excited. "Tifa told us!"

Riku nodded. "She's sitting over there." Riku took Naminé's hand in his, much to her embarrassment and led her toward them. She could barely look, and instead looked at the tiles, counting the lines of grout between them in an effort to distract herself from the beautiful woman and man. Then, she realized she should have felt the same anxiety around Riku. Riku belonged to their type after all. She wondered if he'd used his magic on her, cast a spell like the magician he said he was, to make her less nervous. "Naminé, these two are Kairi and Sora, my two childhood friends, and beauticians here."

Sora peered at her closely, much like Tifa'd done, so much that she could smell his scent, some cologne he wore that smelled nice – a thought which made her more than uncomfortable. He grinned widely. "Knew you wouldn't let us down, Riku! You caught a good one here." He touched her hair. "I can't wait to work on her hair!"

When Naminé tried to back away from him, the girl, Kairi caught her and touched the skin on her face before giving her a smile. Which, in all honesty, made her get goosebumps. All of these people were artists, she understood, but as soon as art involved her hair and her skin, well, of course she would get a little bit anxious. They were eccentric to a new point, they gave the word a new standard and definition to follow. "And her skin! Definitely a good canvas for makeup!" She shook herself out of her state before flushing, somewhat ashamed, even more so by looking at the startled look on Naminé's face, almost as if she'd frightened some small woodland creature. Rabbits and squirrels never did like her anyway. The thought made Kairi frown. "Sorry, I get really, _really_, _**really **_excited when I see potential. I know you're going to be a princess!" She grinned widely and took Naminé's hand, shaking it firmly. "My name is Kairi, I'm one of the makeup artists at Princesses of Heart – nice to meet you! Let's be friends!"

That grin compelled Naminé to smile a little and nod shyly. She tried so hard not to get intimidated. Kairi glowed with happiness, a reaction she'd never received before in response to her own friendship. To have someone so happy to talk to her, was a new experience. Besides Olette, hardly anyone tried. Thinking about that, she frowned for the first time in a long while thinking about her own loneliness. She didn't ever give this thought attention for a long time now.

"And I'm Sora, a hairstylist!" the male introduced, before frowning at her lack of attention. Then, noticing the frown marring her own face, he grinned before placing his two pointer fingers on the corner of her lips and pulling them upwards into a smile. Her eyes widened in surprise, an expression so unfitting with the fake smile on her face that Sora burst out laughing. "There's no frowning here, okay? If you frown, you'll end up like Cloud, and trust me, you don't want that!"

"Cloud's another hairstylist we have here, a really good one too. He often takes up the job of the front desk guy, though - greeting customers and all that since the rest of us are usually styling by the time he gets in. He lives further away from the store," Riku explained. Naminé vaguely remembered seeing a blonde man at the front desk greeting princesses with a bored look on his handsome face. He gave her a smirk then. "Now though, enough of that – let's get started."

"Yeah, she'll have hair that people will get jealous of after."

"Just make sure you don't give her spikes like your hair, Sora. I know that it shows your hair styling skill and all that, since it takes a crap ton of gel to hold those spikes together, "Kairi replied dryly," but spikes aren't suitable on a cute girl."

Sora frowned, "I wasn't _going_ to give her spikes."

Riku sighed.

Naminé gulped, thoroughly terrified at the possibility of having her hair done up in gravity defying spikes like Sora's.

* * *

While Sora and Kairi prepared the tools they would need, going back to their own rooms to go get appropriate scissors, combs and flat irons, and makeup now that Kairi knew 'which colours suited her', Riku took the initiative to pop a measuring tape out of a drawer and state, without any embarrassment whatsoever, "I'm going to have to take your measurements."

Naminé's face turned a shade of firetruck red and said, "Couldn't a girl do it?" Just the thought of Riku taking her measurements made her want to melt in a puddle on the floor, go back to being Nameless. She knew that really, she wasn't anything special, that there were plenty of cuter girls, that she shouldn't be so embarrassed of a measuring tape when he'd probably taken tons of girls measurements before, but the thought still made her heart beat faster and faster, a new rhythm like the acceleration of a train, speeding along metal tracks.

"What's to be embarrassed about?" Riku chuckled at her expression. "It's just measurements. I've taken plenty of them before. It's not a big deal." When the girl didn't calm down he added, "If it'll make you feel better, just think I'm your Fairy God_mother_."

When he started, she tried, she really did, to think he was a woman taking measurements, but she couldn't. His breath ghosted her ear as he would walk around her form. His fingers would brush her skin, her arms as he measured the distance around her waist and mumbled to himself, probably jotting the measurements down into his memory. He moved to her hips, and Naminé never felt so vulnerable in her entire life, with this man claiming he could cast magic upon her, turn her into a swan suddenly, no, a peacock. She knew her neck was red, her face, entirely so, and she knew he noticed, judging by the light phantom traces of a laugh she heard. When he moved on to get the measurements for her chest, she was mortified.

"Do you have to?" Naminé protested weakly. "Couldn't you just… not measure?"

"Unless you want a piece that just doesn't fit right," Riku told her. "That's not an option because I told you I'd cast my magic on you. Trust me, it's nothing big." He touched her face and felt the heat travel from the skin on her cheeks straight to his palm. "I know I can fry an egg here. You don't need to be so tense." She forced herself to relax when he wrapped the measuring tape aroundher, from her back to her chest, lightly. She tried not to focus on how he all but embraced her for a split second when he wrapped it around, but as soon as it started, it finished. "All done, nothing big, right? Just measurements." Naminé released a deep breath she hadn't known she'd been holding, finally feeling relaxed after he stopped getting so close to her. "I really think a sheer dress would suit you well. I'm thinking chiffon or georgette…"

And though, she didn't know how change would be, or whether she actually wanted it, Naminé found herself smiling at the male who wandered around his workstation, looking from dress to dress, feeling the fabric and embedding its essence into his memory. Maybe his magic would turn her into a princess, maybe. The chances were slim, and maybe she'd like if he did fail, then he'd stop being so optimistic to change a girl like her. But, a larger part of her wanted him to succeed, to show her that she'd been wrong all her life, that she could easily be a part of beauty and not just create it. Naminé wanted to see Riku's magic.

Curiosity killed the cat, they'd said, but satisfaction brought it back to life.

* * *

Words: 3 317


	3. Unveiling the Art

**Lipstick Mannequin**

_Written by Whimsical Symphony_

_Finally, I got around to submitting this. I rewrote it about five times because Naminé's feelings and such never seemed quite right to me (and my computer crashed once during my first attempt, leaving me to write everything again.) I hope I did her justice. I think she is the most difficult person to write._

_Please tell me your thoughts – I'd be glad to hear them. Thank you all for the support._

* * *

**Chapter III – Unveiling the Art**

Naminé waited a little nervously in a revolving leather chair as Sora and Kairi started a match of rock-paper-scissors to decide who would work on her first. When she looked curiously at Riku, who thankfully, didn't participate in the anxiety-inducing game, he said that he always preferred to be the last one to work on clients so they could see the magic of his clothing in full bloom.

"Did you pick a dress?" Naminé asked when she saw Riku not pacing around as he was before, from dress to dress, looking with eyes narrowed at each and imagining how it would look on her. She wondered if he found it difficult to pick a dress for her, whether any of his beautiful clothes would suit her. She clenched her hands in her lap and refused to look up.

"I did," he answered, "and trust me – I'll prove to you I'm a magician with it and that you can be a princess too." Riku gave her a small smile and Naminé felt some of her nervousness wash away.

The way he spoke to her so calmly and alleviated most of her worries reminded her a lot of Olette. Naturally, Naminé found it a lot easier to communicate with her rather than Selphie who chattered on and on about boys and clothes, without a doubt to make herself less bored in Naminé's presence. She wasn't interesting or nice to look at after all. People like Olette were strange, she decided, because there was no real benefit to talking to introverts like her, yet they did so anyway.

But then again, looking at Riku now and the quizzical look on his face at her flush, she supposed that she would freeze up when talking to him like she did with Selphie now. Embarrassingly enough, she still felt mortified he knew all her measurements.

Even though he knew measurements for a lot of other girls too. Naminé sighed at her own stupidity.

"Something wrong?" he asked her, raising one eyebrow.

"N-nothing," she stuttered back, still a bit embarrassed to look at the face of her Fairy Godfather.  
"Just a bit nervous…" A half truth.

He placed a hand on her shoulder and told her, "Don't worry – you're in good hands."

Somehow, she didn't doubt that, even though Kairi and Sora's bickering was heard loud and clear, fighting over her like she was some kind of pretty doll that a young girl got on their birthday: a doll who needed her hair braided and her clothes desperately changed (even she admitted they were lacking). Naminé had no doubt that they were good at their jobs, even if their dialogue was more than amusing.

"Sora! You cheated! I clearly saw _scissors_ before you turned it into a _rock_," Kairi protested loudly, her expression as tragic as someone whose world just ended.

"I didn't!" Sora retorted, huffing and turning the other way. "You know I don't cheat!"

"Kairi, Sora's too dumb to cheat," Riku put in, chuckling slightly, putting an arm around Sora, then Kairi, looking every bit the mediator he currently was. "So, no use arguing, hmm? It's decided that Sora works first, then Kairi. Next time, Kairi can go first, okay?" Riku took a look at her and gave her a smile. "No use keeping our princess waiting, right?"

"Fine, only because Riku said so," Kairi agreed rather childishly, turning on her heel and walking toward the counter in front of the mirror Naminé faced, fiddling with different eye-shadow and foundations and other substances Naminé didn't know the names of.

She could imagine Selphie's mortification if Naminé told her she didn't know what that black tube was, or what that coloured powder in the palette was.

"_Naminé_, _that's mascara! You put it on your eyelashes and you have to make sure it doesn't clump!"_

"_Naminé, that's eye-shadow, you put it on before any other eye-makeup!"_

"_Naminé, didn't you know, that's blush! You put it on after on the apples of your cheeks to make hot guys like you! Blushing is appealing, and you're as pale as a ghost!"_

Naminé sighed thinking about all the 'makeup tips' Selphie gave her whenever they had some sort of function where she needed to where a dress. Usually, Naminé got herself out of any situations where Selphie'd make a clown out of her with inch-thick makeup. She much preferred reading or drawing in her room after all.

She hoped that Kairi wouldn't turn her into a clown. Naminé shuddered at the thought of her with raccoon eyes, a pasty white face with two large apples blooming on her cheeks.

"Alright, Kairi and I are going to go help Tifa out. Sora, work your magic and call Kairi in when you're done," Riku told the two of them, keeping an arm around Kairi, trying to cheer her up and stop her from constantly grumbling. Naminé could see his attempts to calm her down didn't work – she was quite vocal about her disagreement.

"Okay, you got it!" Sora gave him a thumbs up while Riku led Kairi out, shutting the door behind them softly. He looked at her and grinned. "I know exactly what to do with your hair! Don't worry, no spikes," he joked, threading his fingers through her hair. "Your hair's super soft." He smiled.

"No spikes?" Naminé smiled. "I hold you to it."

And really, she thought, it _wasn't_ just Riku – she felt more at ease around all of them. It was odd, considering they were of the stylish type and she was of the _'preferring to blend in'_ type – like white paint mixed in with a large glob of some other solid colour. She usually felt as if she were going to throw up around that type and got so cold inside she felt as if she would freeze into an ice cube.

"I promise, Naminé!" Sora grinned.

* * *

"No need to wash since I'm not planning on cutting," Sora explained at her confused look. Instead, he picked up a brush and began to make his way down her gold locks, detangling any knots along the way.

"Not cutting?" Really, Naminé didn't care if he decided he wanted to cut it. Naminé held no real attachment to her hair – it was in her current hairstyle because it'd always been that way and she never had any reason to change it. But Zack liked it this length, she remembered. So whenever she got haircuts, she always kept this length. It would help Zack remember what she looked like whenever he did see her, since those times were always so rare and her face probably matched those of tons of other girls out there.

"No need for it. I want to curl a bit though, if you don't mind," Sora told her, running soothing brush strokes through her hair.

For such a hyper, happy-go-lucky person, he ran the brush very gently through her hair, rhythmically so she could almost fall asleep to it. She could feel it when she shut her eyes, her constant passage from the world of dreams to reality, back, then forth again. Naminé knew the day had been exhausting for her.

"No, I don't mind…" Naminé answered in a half-mumble. She held her arms closer to herself, getting colder now that she was more tired, wanting more heat.

Sora laughed a little. "Tired?"

"A bit," Naminé answered. "I had… a bit of an exhausting day." Really, she didn't know just how much of an understatement that was, now that she thought about it: getting bullied by Seifer and his posse, then getting saved by a person who happened to work at the beauty salon Selphie talked about and she wanted to avoid, then getting told she was to be made into a princess. Not exhausting at all.

"I can believe that," Sora said, continuing to brush, "but it's good you're here now, right?"

Naminé didn't know what to answer to that, so she stayed silent instead. She was glad, in an odd sort of way, to be here – see whether her way of living all her life had been wrong or right, whether she had to see things from a new pair of glasses now. But at the same time, what little pride she had stood strong, and with that pride came a load of stubbornness. With that, she had some sort of determination to stay stuck in her ways and slink back into the shadows, remaining a _Nameless_ _nobody_.

Sora plugged a curling iron into the outline and waited for a moment as it heated up. He grabbed a small, transparent bottle that he'd brought in earlier with a gel-like substance inside, and squirted some on his hands. Then he ran it through her hair, from root to tip. It didn't make her hair feel greasy or heavy like she expected. "This protects your hair from damage. You don't want the heat to burn right through your hair." Then, he started to curl, wrapping her hair around the curling iron, clamping it, then letting it go – suddenly in nice ringlets. It felt different, softer, nicer somehow. "Nice, isn't it? I don't plan to curl all of it, only certain sections. It'll look great."

He curled the front sections of her hair and created waves in some of the back areas. He reached for where he placed his materials, and looking at them now, she could only admire them – beautiful ornamental clips with flowers.

"Riku told me that he picked a sheer dress, so flowers would be nice," Sora explained, picking up one, a silver hairpin with artificial cherry blossom bunches on top. He fastened it into her hair, on the side of her head. "I made these. They suit you," he concluded looking at her. "You already look like a princess to me, Princess Naminé." He grinned and then clearly looked as if he were about to ruffle her hair. He stopped himself, and smiled sheepishly. "I can't help myself."

Naminé blushed and murmured, "Thank you." Really, she wanted to say that she wasn't even close to becoming a princess or anything like that, but looking at his work, and his gorgeous hand-crafted ornamental clips, she looked better, and her hair looked so elegant. Naminé could see his talent. "I can't believe you… hand-crafted this." She touched the clip lightly.

"Well, I have ever since I was little," he started, giving her a small, nostalgic smile. He grabbed some hairspray from the table and began to spray it on her hair from a distance so it would all hold. It smelled nice, just a light fragrance, nothing too overbearing. "Kairi used to be bullied, you know? Her hair was always weird to the kids back in school when we were younger – so flashy and red. And, since she's a girl, they found it fun to pick on her. Riku and I weren't enough to keep it from hurting her."

Naminé saw how bright and lively Kairi was, so confident too. She found it difficult imagining a girl like that as a person who'd been bullied back when she had been younger. Naminé saw the distance between them, as wide as an ocean, how different they were, how differently they acted. But somehow, listening to Sora's voice now as he distributed hairspray throughout strands of hair, listening to Kairi's past, made her seem not as distant. It gave her some hope that if Kairi could change, maybe she could too. Maybe she didn't have to be the person picked on all the time, maybe she didn't have to be the person who wondered day after day why Olette stood by her and Zack took the time to speak to her.

"So, I decided to style hair because of her, you know? There must be lots of people conscious about their hair," he explained. "Kairi got really happy whenever I'd make her clips and things, and do her hair. It gave her confidence and people stopped picking on her. I want to make other people happy like that."

And looking at her reflection now, she knew that only a person who honestly wanted to make people happy from the bottom of their heart would ever be able to style hair like he did. Idly, she wondered how difficult the skill level of this tournament that they planned to enter was if they had hairstylists like Sora around.

He grinned at her, she smiled back a little shyly. "You made me happy, Sora. You've probably made lots of other people happy."

He flushed a little and mumbled a small, "Thanks, Naminé."

Yes, she didn't misunderstand this feeling – she felt happy to be here. She didn't know whether it was a good thing or not, but her happiness had to mean something. Only time would tell.

* * *

Kairi waltzed in next, looking happy and as bubbly as ever, humming some song that'd been popular these days, a simple melody and catchy lyrics. The sheer amount of makeup she put on the counter frightened Naminé. She imagined inch-thick makeup that could pass for a mask.

Hesitating a little, she muttered, "That's not all… going to go on my face, is it?" The thought terrified her. What if she turned up looking like a zombie from some horror flick? She paled considerably.

Kairi laughed loudly and Naminé could even see tears in the corners of her eyes. She supposed she must have looked like she swallowed something particularly bitter and disgusting, inducing some laugher. She definitely felt her repulse inside, so it probably showed on her face.

"Haha, Naminé, you look terrified! Don't worry, this isn't all going to go on your face, I'm not going to turn you into some trashy cake-face," Kairi promised through chuckles. "You also won't end up looking like a carbon-copy of the girl next door, alright? You'll just be Naminé with her natural beauty even more emphasized."

Girl next door? Naminé thought on it a moment, remembering that the girl who lived next to her was a nasty (both hygienically and personality-wise), pug-faced idiot with nothing better to do with her time than mess up the artwork that Naminé painstakingly created. The two methods included waltzing into the room when she took a quick bathroom break and didn't lock her door when she'd be gone for only a few minutes, or breaking in with old bobby pins.

She sighed, too exhausted to even feel mild resentment toward her.

Kairi got out a small glass bottle with liquid foundation in it. Looking from the bottle to her face, she exclaimed gleefully, "I'm such a pro! I got your shade on the first shot." She loaded it onto a brush and began to spread it on Naminé's face. "I always use _Oathkeeper's _brand of liquid foundation. It's got a nice translucent look to it, even though it doesn't last as long as other brands."

Naminé saw the smile on Kairi's face as she worked on spreading the foundation evenly on her face. It reminded Naminé of her own expression and feeling of elation she got while painting. "Translucent look?" she questioned curiously, more curious to hear about how Kairi thought about makeup, rather than hearing Selphie chattering about it endlessly.

"Mm, you know… think of it like painting! Riku told me you're an artist," she explained, gesturing with her hands and exaggerating the strokes of her brush on Naminé's face, treating her skin like a canvas. "Think about different paints you would use. Um… on skin, you want something that looks more like oil paints, you know? That fluid look. But then," she continued, carefully blending everything into her skin, "you don't want it to look super glossy and unnatural, so in that sense, you want it to look more like acrylics." Kairi paused for a moment and continued, "Well, you also want it to have that subtle, natural appearance of water colours, right?"

"So it's all about finding the right blend?" Naminé guessed, even though she noted mentally that it wasn't good to mix different varieties of paint. She could only imagine how icky oil paint would look with a good dose of acrylics mushed in.

"Exactly," Kairi said, nodding enthusiastically. She looked at Naminé's face a moment, making her squirm uncomfortably in her seat. Then, she picked up a palette of eye-shadow colours. "Now this part is really like painting. I'm just blending colours in and using white to highlight certain areas that need to be emphasized." She smiled and softly said, "Okay, close your eyes and let me work my magic."

She first took pink and veiled her eyelids with it, then brushed different shades over it, lighter towards the inside, and darker shades like cerise toward the outside.

"It really is like painting, isn't it," Naminé mused, already knowing that without looking at herself, she didn't look like a clown at a carnival.

"Definitely," Kairi agreed, smiling. Loading white on her brush, she proceeded to brush some underneath her eyebrows. "That'll make your whole face look brighter." She nodded, pleased with her work. She picked up another, small angular brush and loaded a dark purple, gel-like substance on. Naminé looked at it quizzically. "It's eyeliner, albeit in a different form than most actually use. Okay, I'll tell you when to close and open your eyes."

Kairi leant closer to her, and she could smell the light fragrance of floral perfume – nice and refreshing. She told her when to close and open her eyes. Eyeliner always made her scared she'd poke herself in the eye and singlehandedly turn herself into a pirate who needed an eye patch, but when Kairi did it, it actually felt nice and cool against her skin.

"Hmm, Sora did a nice job with your hair, didn't he?" Kairi told her conversationally, curling her eyelashes, then putting some mascara on them. Pulling out a tube of lip-gloss, she began to spread it on her lips, telling her when she needed to smile and when she didn't.

"He… he told me that he started hair styling because of you," Naminé responded unsurely. Honestly, she didn't know whether she was socially untactful, which subjects were taboo and which weren't. She wondered whether mentioning Sora and Kairi's past equated stepping on a landmine.

"I'm grateful to him for that. If not for him, I don't know where I'd be today," Kairi admitted, picking up a bottle of blush. "Okay, smile." Naminé did this, even though it felt a little odd smiling when she had nothing to smile about. Kairi brushed blush over the apples of her cheeks. "Okay, all done."

Naminé hesitantly looked at herself in the mirror, and then, knew she felt some amazement in the pit of her stomach. Selphie would never be able to blend colours so beautifully and make her look even marginally better than what she looked like. Kairi made her look like a doll of sorts. Naminé's face was the canvas for Kairi's painting.

"Thank you… Kairi…" she muttered, flushing more, even though she doubted it would be noticeable with the blush Kairi put on.

The woman in question squealed and gave her a hug that made all the air in her lungs simply leave. "Ah, Nami, you're so adorable! _ Damn_ Riku for being so _damned_ lucky all the _damned_ time!" Naminé didn't even bother to mention how many _damned_ times she'd said variations of the word '_damn_'.

She did bother to notice she felt a little transformed, like a new person sketched from a blank sheet of paper with a new stick of charcoal. Naminé wondered how much it would take for her to belong with everyone else, with stylish people like Kairi, Tifa, Selphie and Olette.

* * *

"Okay, I picked out this dress for you," Riku told her, giving her a beautiful sleeveless sheer dress with lace and ribbons around the bodice and layers on the skirt. "And," he started, giving her another item – a pair of cute, white ballet flats, "I guessed you were around this size. If it doesn't fit, tell me."

Naminé nodded, looking in awe at the dress in front of her that she couldn't even construct using her imagination. When Riku'd left the room, she hastily put it on, feeling the soft rush of the fabric on her skin and then the airy feeling of her skirt when she'd taken a step to put on her new shoes. Undeniably, Riku took his job very seriously and all his statements toward her, for the dress itself looked pretty princess-like. Stepping out of the room after dressing up, she wondered if she looked even a little like a princess – she felt like one, strangely enough, she felt more beautiful than she ever had. All of their power merged together and had some colossal effect on her. Riku really was a magician, she concluded. A real magician.

She looked at all of them when she stepped out. "How… do I look?" she questioned hesitantly.

Sora gave her two thumbs up. "You look awesome, Naminé."

Kairi looked as if she were trying to contain herself, but in the end, ended up squeezing the life out of her. "You look so gosh darned _adorable_!"

And when she looked at Riku, a small smile on his lips, he took her hand unexpectedly, uncurling her fingers. "The dress suits you," he told her. "Definitely a princess, like I thought you were. Because all girls can be princesses. You're a princess, Naminé – and a really beautiful one."

And suddenly, she didn't feel like she blended in, she didn't feel Nameless. Best of all, she thought, she didn't feel like it hurt her, like she wanted to go back to that dark part of her life. She felt like a load had been taken off her shoulders. The three of them, she thought, were real magicians. Real magicians who could cast the most powerful magic on a girl like her.

* * *

_Words: 3 665_


	4. Loving Family

**Lipstick Mannequin**

_Written by Whimsical Symphony_

_Finally got to this after crazy loads of schoolwork. I really couldn't put this off any longer so, instead of working on an essay as I should have been, I bring you this new chapter. Tell me what you think. With a new introduction for Zack (who actually has lines!) and Sephiroth, I hope you like them both. It's touching in a different sort of sense, I suppose, with Naminé trying to make sense out of her feelings and finding that people do love her._

_All comments and criticism is greatly appreciated._

* * *

**Chapter IV – Loving Family**

Naminé studied as much as possible during the time after Riku and his friends turned her into a princess. As expected, when she went home, took off the dress and pretty shoes, washed off her makeup, and tied her hair into a bun so that while she studied, it wouldn't get in the way, then looked at herself in the mirror – she only thought of herself as a plain, boring girl, muted colours, nothing at all vibrant on the canvas that her artist decided to choose.

Riku, Sora and Kairi let her know that she would have time off whenever she needed to because of the contest, whenever she needed to fly anywhere for the rounds, since Twilight Town was so small – it didn't have much to look forward to during the year – but of course, her assignments would still have to be completed sometime. And so, she took that responsibility under her wing as her first step to changing. Maybe kind of becoming a little more akin to the princess that those three expected her to be.

Naminé didn't know how to feel about any of it. Her feelings meshed and muddled together like leftover foods and gravies left on a plate for a while – a mess of everything and anything edible. So, when Riku gave her his number and told her to call anytime, that it wasn't just because he was her Fairy Godfather, but her friend too, she kept the number but never did call – not for a few days at least.

She knew that Tifa, who she gave her number too, would call once they got the first theme assigned for round one. Naminé didn't know how to contact someone if not for work. Even if Riku gave her such a bright and welcoming smile.

She found herself wanting to talk to Zack that day, tell him maybe that she'd changed a bit, while she didn't see Olette in the room. So, while sitting on her bed and pushing her notes aside for a moment, she decided to call, keying in his number a little hesitantly.

She placed the phone up to her ear and heard the dial tone multiple times. She hoped at least to tell Zack what she was up to. She wondered idly as she sat on her bed, her knees up to her chest, what he'd think.

"_Oh, hey Nami! What's up? Must be something big – it's usually me calling you,"_ his voice came, cheerfully as always – always willing to talk to her, not judging her like so many people seemed to do. Maybe it was Zack's attitude that she found so similar to Riku, Sora and Kairi. None of them thought of her as Nameless at all.

But once she heard his voice, her words lay trapped in her throat almost as if a fisherman caught her with a tough, tangled net designed only to strangle her. _"Nami? Hey, what's wrong?"_

Naminé said briefly, "Nothing's wrong Zack… just, I wanted to tell you something."

"_Hm, what is it?" _And he sounded interested to actually hear what she was up to. Naminé felt the warm feeling start in her heart, spreading like hot tea seeping through a tablecloth. She honestly thought that she couldn't have received a better brother than Zack, even if she constantly found herself missing him because of his job. He tried his best to visit her as often as he could. She heard often that his friends teased him for having a sister complex.

She heard the background noise of the television fade out. He turned it off for her. She couldn't be happier. So, with a smile on her face that she knew he couldn't see – so she was free to let loose as shamelessly as she could – she told him, "I think I'm getting closer to you. 'Princesses of Heart' is a big salon in my area, and the beauticians were looking for a model for a competition. You know, I ran into one, a guy, a high end fashion designer. He told me that I should be their model, can you believe it? He told me I can become a princess too!"

Zack chuckled and responded, _"They have good taste if they wanted my little sister. You always were a princess, Nami,"_ he paused, _"though I'm a little jealous – this guy and his friends get to be around you every day. More than your brother."_ She could imagine his pout and laughed along with him. _"But I know this competition, Nami. I have a friend who works at 'Princesses of Heart' too – a guy named Cloud." _When she imagined the cranky front desk person, she never would have associated him with her brother. It shocked her a bit_. "No one would be better suited for the competition than you…"_ He sounded a little sad then, melancholic but then cheered up immediately. _"Hey, tell this kid that if he messes with my sister, he'll have to answer to me."_

Naminé laughed a little, knowing that if she did tell Zack that anyone had been messing with her, he would have taken the first plane back and would have indeed taught her bullies a lesson. But she'd never want to trouble him like that, not ever. If she did, maybe he'd leave like all the others, maybe he'd eventually grow tired of her and find that she indeed suited the name Nameless so well, as well as complementary colours on the colour wheel, as well as sugar and milk in coffee. "Hey… Zack, what's wrong?"

"_I just… miss you – I want to come see you."_ Zack sighed on the other end, and she knew that he was being truthful.

"Whenever… whenever you want, Zack. You know I'll always be here." And she knew how true that was. He'd always be somewhere else in the world, exploring it, filling it with his beauty like when the morning came and filled blades of grass with the soft sheen and glow of dew. She'd remain stagnant, in the same spot, trying to will herself to move, but instead only staying in one spot as Zack moved further away.

Hopefully now though, that pattern she'd gotten so used to would change, just a bit.

* * *

"Ugh, I can't believe I have this essay to write and it's due so soon and I have no clue what to write; I have no damn clue what to do-"

Naminé zoned out, licking her ice cream while walking next to Selphie and Olette on one of their weekend outings. More like, Selphie needed to vent, she thought. The girl went on and on about her essays that needed doing. Naminé suspected that in a sense, she was being used to sit down and listen to Selphie. This outing, she veiled with a false sense of kindness – just a little at least – telling her that Naminé needed to get out and stop being a hermit. Of course, Olette laughed and went along with it.

Naminé didn't mind really, because people used each other all the time. She only grew thankful that Selphie hung around as much as she did.

"That's because you've been partying and thinking only about boys for the past month. You think those essays are going to do themselves?" Olette commented, ignoring the frown on Selphie's face. "You need to do things in advance like Naminé and I, right Nami?"

Naminé nodded and smiled a bit. "Of course."

"Eh! That's not true – I do work," Selphie protested loudly. "I also don't only think about boys – I only think about gorgeous ones," she stated proudly.

Olette sighed in response, knowing all along that she'd been incorrigible and that changing her, not even a sorcerer could accomplish.

Naminé watched as the two bickered with each other as they usually did. Observing the houses around them as well, she noted they were in the upper area of town where all the big shots were. Remembering conversations from so long ago, Selphie once told her she wanted to bag a guy from this area. Olette immediately chastised her for her shallowness. Selphie argued that him living here would've been a huge perk, but of course she'd have to love him too.

Naminé couldn't deny how beautiful the houses were, this one she passed in particular– large, with white stone bricks and large arched windows, a front yard with glass round tables and chairs fit for a cute tea party, and flowers, flowers galore so vibrant and beautiful, in all shapes and sizes that a princess would drown in a sea of magnificence. It all looked so picturesque, as if an author had written his ideal and the words morphed into this scene.

Then, she stopped, and so did her breath for a split moment. At this house, a male flipped the pages of his book slowly while sitting on of the chairs. Riku, looking so serene while reading the pages of his novel, indulging in escapism.

Then, she remembered. She never once told Olette or Selphie of her new status as the model for Princesses of Heart – and not only that, but she never did call Riku. Like a small, frightened animal, she began to note her options in her mind: whether to run, whether to stay put, whether to walk by slowly and hope to God that Riku wouldn't notice them. But of course, luck never had been on her side.

"Hey, Nami – what're you stopping for? Eying that guy over there? I understand why, but," Selphie called ever so loudly and untactfully, cleverly ignoring the sound of Olette slapping her forehead rather forcefully.

Her heart jumped from her chest to her throat as Riku lifted his head up from his book and looked at her. Luck had forsaken her, especially so as he got up, with a smile on his face, opened the gate to his front yard and then called, "Hey, Naminé! I never expected to see you here. Who would have thought you'd find my house?"

Oh, she could have sworn that he sparkled and glowed with much more intensity than the flowers ever did.

He put a hand on her shoulder before looking behind at her shocked friends. "Are they your friends?" Riku questioned. And she nodded wordlessly, not really in any state to say anything. What if Olette and Selphie abandoned her if they knew that the new model of Princesses of Heart stood right before them, frozen to the core of her bones? "Hey, I'm Riku," he greeted with a wave and a charming smile.

"Hi, Riku – are you... Nami's friend?" Selphie asked curiously, stepping closer to Riku. Olette followed her and looked between him and Naminé, a little lost.

Riku looked at Naminé, seeing her pale significantly. "I'm a fashion designer over at 'Princesses of Heart'. Naminé's become our new model. And… she's also my friend." He gave her a reassuring smile and saw her calm down a bit, thankfully. He didn't want to see her ever look distressed, never like when he found her while Seifer and his posse bullied her ceaselessly.

"She never told us," Olette said, a little disappointed. But then she cheered up immediately and looked at Naminé's frown. "But you never try to burden us. We would've cheered for you, don't you know? I'm sure you were just worried about Selphie since she said how much she liked the salon, right?"

And the boys, Naminé thought, eying Riku with a frown.

Indeed, that'd been why Naminé never said anything in the first place besides also trying to conveniently forget about it herself. Selphie probably wanted to become the model too, but there had been no instructions on tryouts or anything. Riku picked her up off the streets. A truly strange selection process for a model, if she'd ever heard of one.

"Well, it's fine," Selphie told them, though she seemed to be eyeing Riku like a piece of meat at the market. She rushed over and took his other arm, hugging it close to her chest. "It doesn't matter so much now, right? I got to meet one of the stylists. Thanks Nami." She gave Naminé a thousand watt smile. She turned to Riku again and introduced, "I'm Selphie, and that," she pointed at Olette, "is Olette! We're pleased to meet you."

Naminé's eyes widened at Selphie's bravery.

Riku flushed a little, uncomfortable before shuffling a little closer to Naminé. Smiling, a little forced, he responded with, "Hey you two. Glad to have such lovely princesses as fans of our salon. Please drop by anytime." The speech sounded a little overly practiced to even the most inexperienced of ears.

"Selphie, Olette, I'm sorry for not telling you sooner," Naminé said quietly, clasping her hands. "It was wrong of me. I just didn't know what you would think."

"I, for one, think you'll do a fabulous job," Olette told her, a wide smile on her lips. She turned to Riku then, and stated authoritatively, "If you don't take care of her, you'll have to answer to me, okay?"

"Will do," Riku responded pleasantly. "It's nice that my Princess here has such a nice friend."

Naminé flushed a deep red at both the pet name Riku bestowed upon her, preceded by the word 'my', and Olette's affection for her.

"Naminé, next time you want to tell us anything, just tell us okay?" Selphie advised, grinning, letting go of Riku briefly (much to his delight) to give Naminé a hug. Then, Naminé felt almost as if people were supportive of her changing – Zack, Olette, even Selphie who loved the salon ever so much. "And, don't worry so much about my feelings. It's going to be your downfall one day. I like the men in the salon more anyway – I probably wouldn't make a great model." Without an ounce of shame, she winked at Riku, who smiled back pleasantly. He did seem rather used to it, his behavior completely natural.

Naminé however, only had the feeling of surprise within her, that Selphie actually possessed humility and told Naminé to care about herself more. Instead of a friend who travelled wherever and whenever she wanted to with whoever she wished, Naminé felt a little closer to her instead of just attempting to graze the slight breeze she left behind.

"Thank you, Selphie," Naminé responded honestly, feeling as if she'd break down into tears if only a trigger caused her to. Her friends may have cared more about her than she ever thought they did – especially Selphie who she thought just hung around for convenience. And Olette's threat to Riku sounded exactly like Zack's – to her, Olette acted the part of an older sister.

"Naminé, don't cry – it hurts me when you do." Riku wiped away a stray tear with his thumb, then turned to her friends. "Do you mind if I steal Naminé for a while?"

Naminé's tears stopped right then, because she wondered _what for?_

* * *

Riku let her know that the theme for the first round had been announced and he wanted to show her some dresses. So, she thought, not a weird reason at all. And, she felt strangely happy around Riku. A feeling she really should have quelled. Even as friends, her kind and his shouldn't have intermingled.

His home looked even larger on the inside, almost like a magician's hat, having an infinite amount of space to hold rabbits and doves, while not looking it. When she took off her shoes and followed behind him, she only looked in awe at the paintings and odd tapestries on the walls, and the ceramic, so polished, she could have sworn someone cleaned each tile every day.

She wondered if she'd get lost if Riku weren't with her. Looking at the open space, she thought that to be a viable possibility.

"You never called me. It made me sad, Naminé," Riku teased. "I thought you decided to bail or something, which would be terrible considering what a beautiful princess you are."

Naminé flushed again and muttered, "What's with all the affection today?"

"Hm, didn't I treat you like this before?" Riku questioned curiously. Naminé did wonder why he seemed so open this day, giving her pet names and calling her beautiful, even holding her close when he greeted her. It made her flush horribly even if she knew that he'd done that to lots of girls (or boys) and she only really flushed because of her own inexperience with the opposite sex.

"I apologize – my dear brother flirts unknowingly all the time and is too dense to realize."

A voice knocked her solidly out of her reverie. Looking behind, she saw someone she recognized coming down the marble spiral staircase – a tall, silver-haired model so commonly found on magazines just like her brother. Sephiroth, his name was, and right now, his beautiful features faced her and he stared at her with fascination. He, she thought, like her brother, seemed one of the ones who embodied beauty rather than create it. Riku remained the anomaly along with Sora and Kairi – they all embodied and created beauty, a combination she found rare.

"That isn't true, Seph," Riku protested, turning away from the man. "Hey, Naminé – this is my brother, Sephiroth. You may know him already… but, this is a formal introduction."

Brother, she heard him say and only then did the word attack her and make her voice submit to silence. She noticed the careful similarities in bone structure between Riku and Sephiroth, their intense eyes, their fair skin. Riku only seemed to be a younger version of Sephiroth.

"Quiet, Riku. Hm, where do I know you from," Sephiroth mused, looking at her face almost as if examining a sculpture at a museum. "Can it be? Is your name Naminé Fair?"

Naminé nodded in response, and asked, "Do you know me?"

Sephiroth's lips tweaked upward ever so slightly as he mentioned, "Your brother is a friend of mine. Zack, of course, is a puppy never to be forgotten. He always mentioned his sister and showed off pictures of you. One would say he has a sister complex."

"Your brother is Zack?" Riku asked. Naminé nodded in response, giving them both a prideful smile – of course, no one could have been prouder of Zack than his sister. And it made her feel happy that, in some way, fate brought them closer together by introducing her to his friend – Sephiroth – and that Zack never really forgot her, even while travelling the world and spreading his beauty everywhere. He always remembered her, always called her, tried his best to make time to visit. Riku chuckled. "I remember Zack whenever he'd come over here. He's really excitable isn't he? He made this house a lot happier." He sounded a little nostalgic when he said this, as if thinking back on far off memories that sailed away to a new world, never to return home.

"He and Sora followed Zack around like lost puppies when they were younger," Sephiroth told her, while stepping around them and then into the kitchen. They followed after him as he filled a kettle with water and began to boil it for some tea. "Of course, only natural that my brother would find some way to unknowingly date his sister."

Riku flushed a little and said, "She's my model, Seph." Sephiroth snorted and served them both tea before sitting down himself.

Naminé felt heat radiating off her body. Sitting down at the kitchen table, she thanked Sephiroth softly as he brought her a cup of tea. Together they all talked about old memories, about Zack, about how silly Riku and Sora had been as kids and about Sephiroth's friendship with Zack. Riku contacted his two friends to come over then too, so they could all look at the theme for the first round together.

Meeting Sephiroth relaxed her – she didn't feel like she needed to avoid Riku any longer. Maybe friendship wasn't such a bad thing. Maybe intermingling with a stylish crowd while being Nameless, no one wrote in as taboo.

* * *

_Words: 3360_


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